Wicked
by Seiichi-Le
Summary: He's not as pure as everyone believes. His life is stained with so many lives, there is no salvation. He can't be the light. There's too much darkness and he's only falling deeper. Warnings: Yaoi (not too explicit), dark themes.


Note: I like dark things. First 07 Ghosts fanfic, so take it easy on me. Warnings include yaoi (not too explicit). I didn't feel like rereading it, maybe I should get an editor or something… Sorry if there are any mistakes. Zeros look cooler than O's, by the way.

**00000**

"I love you," the whisper was said in a breath. He felt the chills chase through him. Any reason had left dissolved into the air around him, the last of his sanity slipping from his fingers. He was living only for this moment, only for these touches.

Those devilish hands, pale as death, strummed against his ribs and danced against his stomach. Each touch seared into him, his flesh memorizing the feel. But he knew if he reached out, the other's body would be cold. The frigid skin would be filled with impurities, and nothing he could do would warm it up. Instead, his own burning body would feel relieved in the coolness, melting in the ice.

Those lips were only a whisper away, trailing from his mouth to his neck. The soft graze of teeth pushed forth a wave of pleasure through him. The yearning for the other grew, seeking out the other's touches. But it was more than that; he wanted to be touched, he wanted to be brutalized, he wanted every shred of dignity he had to be soiled.

It was those thoughts that frightened him. He didn't want to be held lovingly, or cherished deeply. He wanted to be marked, desecrated from his so-called innocence. He wasn't pure. There was so much blood on his hands, but no one could see that. He was the light, everyone labeled him. They didn't know how deeply ingrained his sins ran. No matter how hard he scrubbed, the filth lingered right below his skin. How many lives were stained into his memories? How many lights of hope had he distinguished? For his own sanity, he needed these touches, he needed to be as broken on the outside as he was on the inside.

As if his thoughts were freely written on the walls, the teeth sank into him, breaching open a new wound. The coppery smell faintly reached his senses, before everything was overtaken. The icy hands were rough now, grasping at his flesh in a desperate need. Fingernails carved into him while the other hand was cramming its fingers into his mouth, stopping his cries. He soaked the digits in his saliva, not carrying for how wantonly his body shook beneath the other.

The onslaught on his neck seized, favoring his chest instead. Those fingers continue their rampage, sending him between pain and pleasure. Lust clouded over his mind when his body was filled with the other. He was cold and burning; he was too far gone. His body felt like it was tearing in two with silent screams escaping his throat after each unforgiving thrust. He felt filthy and perfect. He felt whole, but it was definitely wrong.

The tension continued to rise, his thoughts only focused on the feeling writhing within him. It wasn't love filling the air around them, but the need to have one another, to claim the other as their own. It was animalistic, erotic and unnervingly cold. He looked straight into hard amethyst eyes, a possessive flint shining through them. The malicious intent behind them only made his pleasure rise, soaring in the vicious pain and beautiful ecstasy. The vile warmth at the pit of his stomach burned, and he couldn't handle it anymore. So he let go.

The labored breathing now filled the room, the pounding of his heart thumping in his ears. He opened his eyes, staring at the well defined form of the other's chest. Curiously, he reached out and ran his fingers across the skin. The man was still cold, even with the sweat clinging desperately to the flesh. He sank his nail into the abdomen of the other, marveling at the red trail it left behind. Disappointment welled up in him as the red slowly faded away.

He knew he was being watched, but didn't dare look up. He knew the sadistic grin present on the other's face, knew the lucid eyes that would look directly at him, almost into him. He was already sinking, he didn't need to go deeper.

He leaned forward and sank his teeth deep into the skin of the other. The mix of blood and salty sweat was revolting on his tongue, but the hiss of pain he received overwhelmed him with a sick form of happiness. He lapped at the punctures he had made, before laying a gentle kiss over it. He wasn't sure when he had become so possessive. This ugliness in him was slowly filtering out and he didn't know if he could stop it.

He stared at the bruised skin, knowing on his own neck was a matching mark. _'Mine.'_

This moment was like a recurring dream. He remembered the feelings, the touch against his skin, but once it was over, he couldn't remember a thing. It was the only factor that saved him. It was the only reason it pained him. Maybe it was more like a nightmare then. He would agonize over it the entire day, until night fell once more and the dream would start all over again. It would terrorize him, it would rake against his once pure skin. He could feel the strips of red dripping with his blood, but he could never see them.

"I love you, Teito," the voice whispered in his conscious.

He opened his eyes, the flickering light of a nearby candle swaying innocently against the walls, before a cold wind swept it away. It was still dark, the early peak of the sun still hidden in the distance. He felt the lingering threads at his fingertips, his consciousness slowly flowing back into him.

He shuddered when his mind pictured those hands against him, that body against him, that body in him. Only once more, he thought. Only one more time and he would quit. He laughed cruelly at himself, not even recalling how many times he had made the same promise. He couldn't quit, he didn't have the strength to quit this routine anymore.

His fingers reached up at his neck, the flawless skin beneath them brought a stinging sensation to his chest. He dug his own fingernails into the skin, only deep enough to leave a red mark behind. He closed his eyes, recalling the moment.

"Teito?"

He didn't dare look, not yet. Not when his eyes were so far away, his thoughts even further. He settled himself, and without looking, moved his body towards the one beside him. His hands came into contact first, the cold flesh of the other comforting his insane mind. The other's skin felt too cold, much too cold compared to his own. He couldn't figure out how he could be so warm compared to this man. He didn't deserve to be this warm. He curled his whole body against the other's, hoping his warmth would melt into the other.

A sigh of contentment filled the man's chest. He knew the serenity that would lay out on the man's face, he could see it from a thousand miles away. Each contour of this man's perfect body, this man's beautiful nature, this man's everything was engraved so deeply into his soul. Even the darkness that soiled this man's existence.

"Go back to sleep, brat."

He knew that darkness well. He was supposed to be his light. He was supposed to be this man's savior. But it wasn't possible anymore, was it?

"Frau?"

Because he held his own darkness.

"Hm?"

And it was only getting darker.

"I love you." _'I'm sorry.'_

There was no saving him anymore. He was too far gone.

"I love you so much." _'I'm sorry I can't be yours.'_

His words wrapped around his neck, suffocating him. But the gentle arms that enclosed around him felt so wonderful, he wanted to cry. Frau's body was cold, but somehow, he was making him feel so warm. He was going to destroy this man, and that day was coming too close.

_"No need to apologize to him, little one."_ The words spoke so clearly in his conscious, his heart filling with nostalgia. He could picture the holder of the voice. He could remember that man's hands on his skin. He reached at his neck, the unblemished skin still there, but he felt the dull ache from the spot._ "After all, you were made for me. I'll see you tonight again, my angel."_

It was his personal devil, his recurring nightmare._ 'Ayanami...'_

He wasn't as pure as everyone thought.

**00000**

His lips curled into a smile, as he temporarily closed the connection, letting the threads linger. He wanted to make sure the boy felt everything he did and he could feel everything the boy did.

"What an interesting face, Aya-tan. Any reason for it?"

"Just a dream. A very lovely dream."

"Oh? Is that why you always seem to look forward to nights?" Hyuuga peered at his leader, lollipop perched on his lip. "What do you dream about?"

"My angel."

"That's a little too peachy for you." The Warsfeil tilted his head curiously, wondering why the smile had not left Field Marshal's face. It was very peculiar.

"Don't worry. I rip my angel's wings off every time." He lifted his hand up, touching the skin of his neck. It felt warm compared to the rest of his body.

"Ah, that's more like you, Aya-tan."

**00000**

Note: That's it. If you couldn't figure it out, this was Ayanami/Teito and Frau/Teito and Ayanami and Teito meet up in their unconsciousness. I may continue further with this, not sure yet since I don't know where I would go with it. But enough of that, if you made it this far, leave a review if you wish. Hope you enjoyed reading.


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